I like to walk, my feet don’t. They feel uncomfortable in sandals, too hot in sneakers and are not very enthusiastic about flip-flops. They may have gained self-awareness and know that Thailand is not a walkable place. There are almost no sidewalks, and even if some do happen, they are quickly overtaken by vendors. Nevertheless, me and my feet, we try to negotiate – they walk a little bit and I let them rest on a grass clump.

We go through Kanchanaburi. Somewhere on the left the Kwai river flows and carries slowly a green-brown silt. After a few kilometers we reach the bridge – the most characteristic section of Death Railway. Its construction consumed nearly a hundred of thousands of lives – both allied POW’s and civilians. Four hundred and fifteen kilometers that were supposed to open the door to the Japanese conquest of Burma and India. History turned out differently – the Americans won the war, and the Japanese returned to their islands.

Today the bridge on the river Kwai attracts dozens of tourists. On the one of its ends one may get a tacky T-shirt, golden jewelery or something to eat. The other riverbank seems to be a little dusty and forsaken. Only here and there green tufts show up. My feet are happy.